Page 71

Ican’t remember the last time I held a crayon.

It’s strange to think that one day I picked up a crayon, put it back down, and then never touched one again. There was a time when a brand-new box was the highlight of my week, but then, suddenly, that changed. I grew up. I grew out of them. I was too cool for coloring.

But there’s no way in hell I’m too cool to color with my daughter.

“What do you think?” I ask, spinning the book around to show her.

Charlotte leans over the table to check my work. She laughs, loudly, and covers her mouth.

“What?” I ask.

“No!” she says.

“No? What’s wrong with it?”

“He’s pink!” She giggles and points at the page.

“You’ve never seen a pink dog before?” I ask.

“No!”

I gasp. “I have!” I point to my head. “Right up here. Pink dogs. Green kittens. You name it, my brain can make it happen. Yours, too.”

She rolls her eyes, looking a little too much like Anna’s bullshit detector, but I’m hoping she takes that advice to heart. I suppose perhaps I shouldn’t be teaching her the basics of using logic against people to aid confidence tricks and other scams, but hey, I’m only human.

“You!”

I look up, along with the rest of the customers sitting around the bakery.

Vincent marches out of the kitchen with a thick finger pointed at me across the room.

“I need to talk to you⁠—”

“Vin, stop!”

Anna appears behind him and rushes forward to block his path before he can plow through to me. She grabs his arm and yanks him back into the kitchen with Evey’s help.

“Soothing breaths,” Evey says, guiding him back. “Deep, soothing breaths…”

He points at me again. “Don’t you go anywhere.”

“Vincent, come on,” Anna says, pushing him through the doorway. “Knock it off.”

He and Evey disappear into the kitchen. I look at Charlotte and we share a look of confusion.

“Your uncle seems like a very nice man,” I say.

She laughs.

I glance up as Anna lets out a huge sigh on her way toward our table.

“Well, I can only imagine what that was about,” I say.

She slides into the chair next to Charlotte. “Let’s just say Vincent is a little more… protective than your average little brother.”

“Well, I guess it’s not every day your sister tells you…” I pause, my eyes falling to Charlotte again. I’m not actually sure what she knows about her origins yet. Better not say anything without consulting her mother first. “Well, you know.”

Anna nods. “Hey, Charlotte, you want to go give your uncle a big hug for me? Tell him I owe you a double cherry-cherry cupcake.”